As Long As Rose Is Here
by LittleDhampirOnFire
Summary: Adrian Ivashkov. Soul Searching. Lost Loves. Murder. Pain. Redemption.   Post Last Sacrifice
1. Chapter 1

I breathe for nothing. I get up every morning for nothing. No one. Every night, a different girl lay beside me as I fall asleep but when I awaken, not a soul is there. The sheets are cold and unfilled. No warmth. Just like my heart. Maybe I've just been fooling myself into believing that they love me. Perhaps Spirit has finally taken dominance of my mentality. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe there never was a Rose Hathaway and maybe…just maybe, this entire thing was all my imagination. I have a good imagination, after all; but I could never dream up something as mind-blowing and remarkable as her.

"No," I cry aloud. "Stop thinking about her that way; it wont do you any good."

Nothing ever does. My vision blurs and the bottle of Vodka that lay on the pillow next to me transforms into a figure of a stunning creature; russet colored eyes, tanned skin, undulating brunette hair, and incredible curves. She gazes up at me through her lashes and her full lips pull up into a smirk. Such a lovely mouth filled with lustrous white teeth. Such a lovely mouth filled words that can make any man swoon…or break any man's heart into a million pieces.

I reach out to touch her, to caress that smooth skin, to hold her in my arms one last time and ask for forgiveness; for what? For nothing…. for everything. I want to beg for her to take me back, to forget about Dimitri, to let him go but I know she won't. I realized a long time ago that asking of that would be too much, that my breath would be wasted on nothing, coming in one ear and out the other. I still try.

My fingertips are mere inches away from her jaw, when she vanishes; Disappears into thin air and in her place is the bottle of vodka. "She's gone," a voice in my head snarls "She left you just like she did before. Rose is no longer yours" She never was mine, I realize. All that time that I spent flowering her with gifts, luxuries, kisses, and promising her anything she wanted was of no use. All she wanted was Dimitri. And that was the one thing I couldn't give her.

The thought makes me furious. I snatch the bottle from the bed with shaking hands and hurl it at the wall. The glass shatters into little pieces and fall to the ground. The liquor trickles down the wall, like tears that I refuse to cry. Some of the glass that had rebound lay by my bare feet. I don't care to clean it up. My whole body is trembling. The sound of the glass bursting echoes in my ears. I can feel the anger in the air as if it were almost tangible. I can't control it. "Fight it," that voice whispers again. The voice becomes clearer, and some part of me recognizes it. I think I'd know that voice anywhere. My heart picks up speed and goose bumps tingle up and down my spine like a thorn being jabbed in my back repeatedly. Rose.

I swiftly turn around, searching for the voice, but somehow knowing that I wouldn't find it. This confirms my suspicions about me going insane. "Your not insane," Rose's voice murmurs, "But you will be if you don't stop. Stop the drinking, the smoking, the Spirit; All of it"

Hearing Rose's voice, sends an ache right through my heart, like a spear; or what's left of it, at least. I crave it so much. I want _her_ so much. It's become a daily battle; loving her and loathing her. Today I love her…for now, I lover her. Sometimes, just to make all the pains of it go away, just to wash away all of reality, I drink; and now it's finally caught up with me. I don't mind. As long as Rose is here, somewhat, it doesn't matter.

Her voice, though; it's gone. I feel the emptiness in my head. I search frantically in my head for a way to bring her back but I don't know how. I begin to pace back and forth across the room as I think, and step on a large piece of glass left over from the tantrum not five minutes ago. It makes a deep gash on the side of my foot, but I could care less. Just then a light bulb goes off in my head.

I run over to the small cabinet under the sink and grab another bottle of Vodka. I have a stash in there. For emergency, you know. I dash back to the bedroom and climb up onto the cold silken bed. My foot is still bleeding and it left stains on the threadbare carpet. I lean back against the pillow and unscrew the lid to the bottle. My heart picks up in double time as I lift the drink to my lips and take a swig. Already I can feel my head pounding. I lean my head against the headboard and take another sip…waiting; Waiting for Rose to appear again, or for her to speak to me; who knows?

"Adrian…" Ah, there she is. Her tone is very disapproving. She doesn't like what I'm doing. At least she cares. And that's all that I ask for. Maybe I am going crazy; maybe I'll wake up one day and this will all have been a dream. Who cares? Not me. The world could be ending, an enormous pack of Strigoi could be attacking and I wouldn't be aware. I take another drink from the bottle and smash it against my mouth. "Stop!" she cries, and I sink in deeper under the cover. Maybe tomorrow I'll hate her. Maybe tomorrow I'll be too hung over to even remember her Rose Hathaway is, though I highly doubt it. But, like I said, today I love her; and as long as she's with me, in someway, Im alright. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Christ, it cant be that heavy," exclaimed Torrie, our family's housekeeper. "I saw you packing last night. It's all clothes in here, isn't it?"

"Yes..just that," I replied with a innocent smile.

"As heavy as a crate of vodka, this bag is," she grumbled as she lifted it up once more, suspicion clear in her voice.

Torrie was a petite little woman; slim like almost all Moroi but unusually short, washed out chestnut locks that reflect a tiny hint of red when the sun hits it right (or at all, for we rarely go out during the day), a fragile and thin voice fit for a little girl year old laced with a slight romanian accent. At first glance she seems like a normal housekeeper and watching her for the past few years I've realized she only ever gets nervous around my parents, Daniella and Nathan Ivashkov. She was never that way around me. Those hard violet eyes, absorbing everything yet reflecting nothing. Eyes like a Dhampir. I found myself checking her out, looking for any similarities she has to Rose. None. There is no one on God's green Earth as lovely as Rosemarie Hathaway. I wondered if Torrie would ever go for a guy like me. No, I scolded myself, she would never. Girls like her don't fancy men who wear their heart on their sleeve; or what's left of it in my case. Ever since the fallout with Rose, I no longer have the confidence I once had; mulling over what was wrong with me. Why Dimitri, the cradle-robber, when she could have..me? There was a time when I wouldn't even have to explain why I was better. But now Im not so sure.

"Well, are we just going to stand here or what? You've got places to be and," she whispered, "from the looks of it, drinks to be chuggin."

For the first time in a long time, I actually laughed. A sober laugh. I realized then that I'd likely never be the same person I used to be and I honestly don't know if it's for better or worse but maybe..just maybe I can be whole again. I bent down and pecked Torrie lightly on the cheek.

"Its been a pleasure knowing you, darling," I drawled doing my best attempt at a southern accent. I knew how much she liked those.

Torrie flashed a grin and looked away, scratching the back of her neck which had turned a bright pink. I tried desperately to make myself see something in her, anything. I searched deeply into myself, looking for some sign; a quickened heartbeat, hitched breathing, a feeling of complete and utter contentment and happiness; a feeling I only ever felt with Rose. That spark that had been slowly dying in me sparked back to life. I gripped Torrie by her shoulders and pulled her to me. Looking her right in her violet eyes, I half pleaded, half commanded her. "Kiss me," I said, "Please"

Torrie released my bag onto the floor and leaned in, pressing her lips to mine delicately at first, and harder the next. I immediately responded, pushing her against the door and side stepping the bag with the likely broken vodka bottles. My eyes open, I searched her face. A look of pure pleasure was permanently etched on her face. I pulled away, pushing her farther into the door, her head snapping back and slamming into the hard carved wooden door. Damn it. Why couldn't I feel anything. Torrie whimpered from the blow, clearly shocked from my sudden change in mood. Turning around I picked up my bags and stormed out the door, shrugging Torrie aside.

Once outside, I took in all the fresh air I could get. I needed to calm down. Using compulsion on an innocent young girl, especially a long time friend of mine was a bad idea. But God, something was not right here. I wasn't right. Spirit, I instantly thought. It's taking over, again. I instinctively reached for the pack of cloves I always carried with me in my pocket. Only one was left "Damn, I left the rest at the house." I was _not_ going back there. Lighting it up, I continued my trek, cutting across a garden that was cold and dead now that night was here and winter had rolled in. As dead as me. I was a meadow so wonderful and fresh in the fall, women falling all over me like leaves. But then Rose came into my life and blew all the leaves away shining down on me like the sun; filling my heart and soul. Suddenly flowers were sprouting from everywhere, blue birds singing their light hearted tunes. But occasionally there was a cold breeze that would blow in and the flowers would shrill up and cower, crying for that brilliant and radiant sun to come back..and eventually she would and soothe the pain. But never fully. There was always that one flower that wouldn't grow back. And each time, one more would die..never to return. It was like a wildfire small and controlled, deep in the woods yet always there; getting bigger and bigger until it consumed the whole of me. Uncontrollable and burning. Burning like the hatred in my heart I felt for what Rose did to me. Leaving everything black and dead. Just like this garden.

"Adrian?" A voice called out in the distance. I could see a blonde Moroi sitting on a granite bench, a book in her hand. I couldn't tell who through the cloves smoke. I waved it away and stepped closer.

Lissa.

"Adrian what are you doing with those bags? Where are you going?" Her voice was alarmed, slowly rising. Lissa gracefully stood up and strode over to me.

"Your majesty," I bowed half sarcastic, half frightened.

"Cut the crap, Adrian. What is going on? You are _not_ leaving. I wont allow it."

"No offense, Liss but I can do as I please. I'm 21. Sorry," I sneered.

"And I am your Queen."

"Your point?

Lissa stood there, hand on her hips staring into my eyes intently. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. I know she'd could do whatever she wanted, she was Queen. But she'd never keep me here if I didn't want to stay.

"Where are you headed?" she asked quietly, calmly.

"Away from here" I snapped, looking away, trying to keep my gaze from catching hers.

"You don't know, do you? Your just going to run off with all your money and booze-

"and-

"and what? Tell me Adrian? You have nowhere to go."

"Yes, I do! Alder"

Lissa let out a harsh laugh. "Please, Adrian. College? They wont let you back in. Stay here. Let me help you. I need a helper. A right hand man if you will?" she began, I could she was getting excited talking about it. " Like you and I. I've been so busy with all this work and Rose cant help because well..she isn't here right now. And you know, she's my guardian. She doesn't have time for these things. You were the first person that came to mind. You need a job dont you? Plus, on the side you could help Christian train some of the willing Moroi to fight. You get paid," she added as if I was broke and desperately in need of money.

"Where is Rose?"

"In Russia, with Dimitri.

I felt relieved yet disgusted at the same time. Lissa looked up at me with a look of pure hopelessness in her eyes.

"I don't know, Liss"

"Please. Do not do anything rash. We need you here"

Where was I really going to go if I left court? I had plenty of people I could stay with, for money of course. That's all anyone cares about, my money. I could be a total Hugh Hefner and they'd take me in; all for the money. But Lissa and the gang wanted me for me. Not my money or my devastatingly handsome features, which I knew at times were hard to resist. I could see it in Lissa's eyes. She felt for me. She didn't understand what it was like to be me but she could sympathize. She really and truly wanted to help me. To get me through this awful time. And that's just what I needed right now.

"Alright. I'll do it."

"Great!" She squeaked, jumping up on her toes to wrap her arms around my waist and give me a hug.

"Sooo..when do I start?"

"Now actually"

"What do I need to do?"

Lissa took both bags from my hand, juggling to lift them all and threw my cigarette onto the floor.

"You just littered, I hope you know" I sneered, giving her a devilish grin.

" Reach into my back pocket and get the Honda keys out, will you?" she asked kindly

I stuck my hand into her back pocket, peering around me to make sure nobody was gawking at us. The last thing I needed was to be photographed sticking my hand in Queen Vasilisa's pants. Im sure Christian would set my hair on fire, for real this time. I fished out the keys and eyed them.

"What are these for?" I asked. I could see she was about to come up with a smart ass remark so I cut her off.

"Where am I going?"

"I need you to pick someone up" she said. No hint of shame in her voice. She switched feet, leaning on her left with one bag around her shoulder, the other in her hand.

"But-

"Adrian" she pleaded, giving me that look that she knew I couldn't say no to.

"Fine"

I slouched off toward the parking garage, my back turned to Lissa.

"Oh and Adrian?" She called out.

I turned around just in time to see her wipe her mouth with her hand..probably wiping that smirk off her face.

"It's Rose"

Oh, hell.


End file.
